Memory Cat

Today’s draft comes form the cascade of full-sense memories that can arrive on just one sensory impression — in this case, the quality of early Spring light in the Upper Midwest. This is one where the central metaphor is just so lovely in my head, but what I wrote in this draft is — not quite it. It’s alright. I’ll get there eventually.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published A particular quality of light can sneak up on you while you are in the bath wakingfrom a dream whose impact rides on your skin but whose details you can't quite remember.The light touches the corners of your half-closed eyes awakens a memory from its feline slumber in your hippocampus.The memory stretches its limbs, arches its back, fully occupies the space between your skin and bones,Bathes you from within while the herb-scented waters bathe you from without.You breath the light, see the air, feel it all tinged with Yes Now, Yes This, Yes -- whatever comes. The memory, fully formed and loosened, glides back into your brain, curls up again in the warmth of your knowing, purring out the ethos of another place and time.